But I was calm. Inside, it was quiet and spacious. No pain, no resentment— only massive, cold relief. It was like I had carried an unbearable weight on my shoulders my whole life, and now at last I had set it down.
It was late when we finished. The house was clean and quiet again.
Mine.
I brewed us mint tea from the garden. We sat on the porch, wrapped in light blankets, and watched the dark, star‑studded Georgia sky.
Then my cell phone, lying on the table, vibrated sharply, tearing the peace. Anise picked it up. Langston’s name flashed on the screen. The call dropped, and a second later a new voicemail notification appeared.
Anise looked at me.
I nodded.
She put it on speaker. His voice shattered the night’s silence, distorted with rage, breaking into a rasp.
“Aura, are you out of your mind? What kind of circus did you pull? You humiliated me in front of everyone. Is this your little tantrum? Your petty revenge? Are you completely senile in your old age? I’m trying to pay for a hotel and my cards are blocked. My cards. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
He was practically choking on his fury. In the background, I heard Ranata’s placating voice.
